First Date Retake
by knightlycat
Summary: Kurt and Blaine's first evening together goes awry. Will Kurt get a second chance to make a first impression? **Now with 2nd chapter!**
1. Chapter 1

**I still don't own Glee, no matter how often I tell Santa I've been a good girl.**

* * *

Kurt's back hit the wall with a soft thud as he and Blaine stumbled through his front door, their mouths refusing to leave each other even though it had made it very difficult to get his key into the lock. He wrapped his arm around Blaine's neck and pulled him in closer, moaning slightly as Blaine's thigh slipped between his legs.

He'd hadn't felt this kind of instant attraction to someone since…well, ever.

He'd been at a dance club with Rachel and Santana, celebrating Rachel's latest role, when his eyes had locked with those of a gorgeous dark haired guy across the crowded floor. In that moment, only the two of them existed. In fact, the place could have burnt down or been raided by the police and Kurt didn't think that he would have noticed.

They came together as if pulled by a magnet and spent the next several hours dancing, their bodies draped over each other in an almost indecent fashion. Throughout the night they'd been interrupted several times by people trying to cut in, but they turned them all away without a second glance.

The need for water had finally driven them from the floor and they'd been taking a break at the bar when Blaine's friends had approached, telling him it was time to go. He'd reluctantly agreed, but had typed his phone number into Kurt's phone before he left.

Kurt had been sitting forlornly on a stool, wondering how soon he could call the number without seeming like a creepy stalker when he'd felt a tap on his shoulder. Blaine had put his friends into a taxi and come right back, unwilling to let the evening end there.

As they left for Kurt's apartment arm-in-arm, Kurt had seen Santana give him a big thumbs-up followed by an obscene gesture.

Their kissing progressed after Kurt managed to get the door shut behind them and soon they were only half dressed, their jackets on the floor at their feet, shirts unbuttoned. As Kurt took Blaine's hand to lead him towards the bedroom he ground to a halt, a horrible thought dawning.

"Please, please tell me you have a condom with you, because I'm pretty sure I'm out."

Blaine reached back and pulled out his wallet with a smile that turned to a frown when he opened a little compartment to find it empty. "Oops. It's kind of been a while and I guess I didn't replenish. That's okay. We can do…other things instead."

"I think I'm out of lube, too," Kurt groaned, thinking back to the empty bottle he'd thrown away the morning before.

"Oh. Okay. Well. I guess we could just talk or—"

"No. No way. Uh-uh. Okay, here's the plan. You wait right here while I run down to the store on the corner." Kurt slipped his jacket back on and gave Blaine a hard kiss. "Be back in five minutes."

Never had Kurt cursed his fourth floor walk-up more than during the long trek down to the sidewalk. He dashed down the street and was in and out of the store in a blink, not even taking the time to blush when the pimply guy behind the counter smirked at his two lone purchases.

He ran back up the four longest flights of stairs in history and flung his door open. The apartment was quiet and he smiled as he walked towards the bedroom expectantly, wondering if Blaine was going to be waiting for him naked in his bed.

He walked into the bedroom and stopped. His bed was still perfectly made from that morning and there was no sign of Blaine at all. A peek into the bathroom confirmed that he wasn't there either. The apartment was small and there weren't many place he could be, so after checking the bedroom closet and the fire escape, Kurt was forced to admit that Blaine had left, slipping out in the brief time he'd been gone.

Feeling slightly guilty, Kurt checked the drawer where he kept some extra cash, but the money was still there.

Had he come on too strong? Had he read the situation wrong? The only explanation was that Blaine had gotten cold feet, but why hadn't he just stayed and told Kurt that? Their connection had been so strong at the club that he must have known that Kurt would have been just as happy snuggling on the couch talking, no matter how enthusiastica he'd been about the sexier option for the evening.

Kurt sank down onto the couch and pulled out his phone, his finger hovering over Blaine's name. He should just call him and find out what had happened. Maybe Blaine had gotten a call about an emergency. Maybe he'd call Kurt later with an apology and ask if they could meet up again later.

Or it could be that Blaine had sobered up and realized that drunk goggles had caused him to go home with someone that he'd normally never consider.

Kurt turned off the phone and dropped it down onto the cushion beside him, disappointed, embarrassed, and more than a little afraid of what reason Blaine might give if he asked.

He guessed it just hadn't been meant to be.

=^..^=

"Okay, that's it," Rachel said, knocking Kurt's feet off their perch on the edge of the coffee table as she crossed in front on him. "It's been over a month. You didn't even mope like this after Eric broke up with you and you guys dated for six months. He was just a one night stand, Kurt. Not even! What was so special about him that you can't let it go?"

"There was just this connection and…Oh god, I'm pathetic. I'm one of those pitiful people you see shopping at the grocery store in their pajamas because they can't be bothered to get dressed anymore, aren't I?" Kurt stood up and crossed to the other side of the room, turning to look back at Rachel with his hands on his hips. "How do I snap out of this?"

Rachel plopped down on the couch and looked thoughtful. "I think the problem is that you didn't get closure. You need to find out why he left that night and then you can move on."

"I'm not calling him, Rachel. If there was a window during which I could have done it without humiliating myself it had long since passed. That ship has sailed. That bell has rung. That fat lady is way, way done singing. Nope, I think I just need to put myself back out there, you know? Find someone else. Maybe we should go out dancing tomorrow night."

"Sure," Rachel replied, "count me in."

Kurt headed towards the kitchen to grab a snack and missed the calculating look on Rachel's face.

=^..^=

The next morning, Kurt awoke to a tickling nose and a pressure on his chest. He pried one eye open to find Santana leaning over him, her hand holding a chunk of her hair, which she was brushing back and forth over his face.

"Rise and shine, my pretty pony. Aunty Tana is here to solve all your problems."

"Why does my stomach always clench when you say that?" he asked, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

"Because you don't appreciate the honesty and awesomeness I bring to this friendship, but that's okay, I accept that about you. Now, up up, out of bed. You've got a phone call."

Kurt glanced over at his phone, which was lying quietly on his bedside table.

"Nope, on Rachel's phone. Come on." Santana tugged on his arm until he gave up resisting and followed her into the living room.

Rachel was sitting on the couch, talking animatedly to someone on the other end of the line. "Oh good, here he is now." She held the phone out to him with a giant smile and Kurt stared at it like it was snake. "Don't worry, it's not Blaine."

Kurt took the phone and held it up to his ear tentatively. "Hello?"

"Kurt!" a voice rang out in his ear. "This is Kaplan from the morning show on The Zoo FM. Your friends Rachel and Santana called and told us about your prematurely ended date from last month and asked us to help you maybe get a First Date Retake."

"First…what?"

"Once a week we put someone on the radio who had a disastrous first date, but doesn't know why. We then call the other party and ask what went wrong. Hopefully, we can get you two crazy kids together to re-do your first date. We've got Blaine's number, so let's give him a call, shall we?"

Kurt turned around to glare at Rachel and Santana, not sure if he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him or them more. "Thanks Rachel, this is _so_ much better than calling him myself."

Rachel shrugged and smiled innocently while Santana just cackled.

Before he could figure out a way to get out of it, Kurt heard a ringing sound and suddenly there was Blaine's voice.

"Hello?"

"Hi Blaine! This is Kaplan from The Zoo FM and we have a listener who called in about a date he had with you. I guess things didn't go so well and you bailed and now he's kind of wondering why. Do you have a few minutes to talk with us?"

Kurt shook his head violently. No, it wasn't him that called in. Why were they making it sound like this was his choice?

"So we've got Kurt on the other line and he said you guys really hit it off at a dance club and eventually things led back to his place, but when he slipped out to buy some condoms you took off. What's up with that?"

Kurt winced at the mention of condoms and wondered what the odd were that none of his co-workers listened to the Zoo morning show.

"Oh," Blaine said with a nervous laugh. "Kurt was great, but when we got back to his place I just kind of realized that maybe we weren't really compatible, you know? It just wasn't going to work out."

The pit dropped out of Kurt's stomach. This was his worst case scenario, actually. That there had been something about him that had driven Blaine away.

"Come on, you have to give us more than that," Kaplan cajoled. "Did he have bad breath? Did you get to his apartment and find out he was a hoarder? What?"

Blaine sighed. "No, I just think that he was into some stuff that wasn't quite my style."

Kurt cocked his head to the side. What?

"We're intrigued. Go on."

"Okay, well. After he left to go buy — to go to the store, I picked up my jacket and wanted to hang it up, so I went to the hallway closet and when I opened it I found…paraphernalia."

"What, he's into drugs?"

"No! No. The closet with full of…" Blaine's voice dropped to a whisper, "bondage gear. You know, rubber suits and blindfolds and stuff like that. I don't want to judge — to each their own, you know — but that's really not something I'm into personally and I just thought it best for everyone if I made a hasty exit. I'm not a big fan of confrontation."

Kurt's eyes had widened at the words "bondage gear", his eyes racing towards his closet door. Santana let out a loud bark of laughter and he could have sworn he heard her mutter "I knew it. It's always the quite ones."

"Kurt, Kurt," Kaplan called, bringing his attention back to the phone. "Is this true? Were you bringing our little innocent Blaine here back for an evening of fun in your dungeon?"

"Oh. My. God. Blaine, no you misunderstood." Kurt decided to ignore the DJs and speak right to Blaine. "I'm a costume designer for a theater and those were costumes I'm working on for a new play. I'm not into bondage, I swear."

"Kurt, it's not a problem if that's what turns you on," Blaine said reassuringly. "You just need to find someone who's into the same things. I'm sure there are clubs that you can—"

"No, no clubs, no leashes, no ball gags. Costumes. That's all there are. I swear. Here, my friend Rachel is here, she can tell you." He held the phone out to Rachel with a pleading look.

Rachel took the phone and walked towards the closet as she joked with the DJs about what her dominatrix name would be. She opened the door a sliver and peeked in, then laughed.

"It's just rain coats! Black rubber raincoats with weird smiley faces painted on the back. And the blindfolds are really just those night masks, like those you get on a plane." Rachel pursed her lips and shot Kurt an exasperated look. "Really, Kurt that theater is way too strange. You need to get back to Broadway and away from this experimental stuff. You'll never win a Tony for costume design if you—"

"Focus, Rachel," Kurt huffed impatiently.

"Oh, right. Sorry to disappoint your listeners, Kaplan, but all this stuff really is harmless. Between you and me, I have a feeling Kurt is pretty vanilla in the bedroom, actually."

"Hey!" Kurt protested while Santana collapsed over the arm of the couch with laughter.

"Well, it's true!"

Kurt wrenched the phone away from her. "Blaine, do you believe me?"

Blaine laughed and the warmth that Kurt remembered from that evening filled his chest. "Of course. I'm so relieved. I really, really liked you and there have been so many times over the past few weeks that I picked up the phone and almost called you."

"Even though you thought I wanted to tie you up with a dog leash?" Kurt teased.

"Yes, even though."

"Alright, then," Kaplan interrupted. "Now that everything is out on the table I have to ask: Blaine, are you will to go out with Kurt again and give him a second chance to at a First Date Retake?"

"Absolutely. And Kurt, I wouldn't object if you brought one of the night masks with you. For science."


	2. Chapter 2

**I gave into peer pressure and wrote a second chapter. Enjoy!**

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As part of the bit, the radio station was paying for Kurt and Blaine's second date. All they had to do was report back the next week on how it all went.

Kurt felt a little strange about the whole thing. It seemed odd that his love life, which for so long had been something that most people wanted him to hide away, like a dirty secret, was now being used for drive-time entertainment and that his story was being treated the same as the man and woman whose first date had gone awry when she'd insisted on live tweeting every second of the evening.

Their "retake" was set up for the following Saturday, so at least he only had three days to stress over how it would go. They were meeting at a nice restaurant in the Meat Packing district and then would probably just go for a stroll, depending on the weather. It wasn't very original, but Kurt had thought that boring and predictable might just be what they needed.

Saturday arrived and Kurt spent a good part of the early afternoon standing in front of his closet. What did one wear to try and drive home the fact that one was not into BDSM? He immediately rejected any items with straps or buckles and sadly set his favorite calf-high boots aside also (he never realized how many bondagesque items were in his wardrobe). Finally, he decided on a printed button-down shirt, simple lightweight jacket, and his loosest pair of pants (which were not loose at all, really). He couldn't help adding a broach at the last minute, but bypassed all of the death-themed pins in favor of a little wooden sailing ship.

After promising to give Rachel a full update as soon as he got home and emptying his pockets of the pile of condoms and travel-sized lube packets that Santana had slipped into them while he wasn't looking, Kurt headed out. He got to the restaurant early and set about pacing back-and-forth outside the door, sure that at any moment he was going to get a call from Blaine saying that he couldn't make it after all.

After awhile, Kurt decided to go inside and sit at the bar to wait. He was nursing a Malibu rum and pineapple juice and checking his watch for about the twentieth time when he saw Blaine come in the front door. God, he was even cuter than Kurt remembered.

Blaine looked around the room, nervously straightening his bow tie, until he spotted Kurt. He smiled and the knot in Kurt's stomach lessened just a bit. He abandoned his drink and went over to greet him. They were both formal and overly polite, the ease in each other's company that they'd had at the dance club lost under the weight of misunderstandings and embarrassment.

They were shown to their table and immediately picked up their menus, holding them up as shields as they struggled to find a way to break the silence. They ordered and both ended up looking forlornly after the waiter as he carried the protective menus away.

Kurt kept sliding his hand into his pocket as they sat there and he could tell from the tiny flicks of Blaine's eyes that he'd caught the movement. Finally he just committed and pulled the little wrapped package out and set it on the table by Blaine's plate.

"For you."

Blaine looked confused, but picked the small box up and tore away the blue striped paper. It opened to reveal a black and red night mask. Pinned to it with a giant safety pin was a handwritten note reading "For sleeping only" with "sleeping" underlined three times. Beneath the mask were two photos, one showing actors on a stage wearing the rubber garments that he'd found in Kurt's closet and another showing a group of men standing in front of a backdrop wearing the masks and brightly colored straight-jackets.

Blaine picked up the mask as he began to laugh and Kurt followed close behind.

"I know you said you believed me, but I thought you might need some proof. Rachel's right, I do need to go find another theater company to work for. At least this production actually had something that could reasonably be called costumes. For the last one I had to design fourteen unique modesty socks and G-strings. Who knows what you would have thought if you'd seen those in the closet."

"I can't apologize enough for running out on you like that. It's just that I haven't had the best luck with guys and when I saw what I thought I saw in your closet I just bolted. I almost turned back, though. I liked you so much and was so attracted to you, but a friend of mine had just forced me to watch that _50 Shades of Grey_ movie and I was a little traumatized."

"That movie would scar anyone for life," Kurt shuddered in distaste. "At least they didn't make you read the book. Studies have shown that reading things that poorly written actually reduce the IQ significantly." He hesitated before continuing and tore a piece of bread off and dipped it in the oil and vinegar the waiter had poured for them in order to give himself something to focus on other than Blaine's enthralling eyes. "I do wish you'd waited and at least talked to me though. I came back and the apartment was just empty. I-I thought I'd done something wrong or that you'd realized that you'd made some horrible drunken mistake."

Blaine grabbed his other hand and squeezed it tightly. "No. God, no. I'm so sorry for ever making you feel that way. Let's make a pact. Let's promise to be totally honest with each other as long as this," he waved a hand between them, "lasts. Whether it's just tonight or for who knows how long."

Oh, please let it be for longer than just one night. "I do believe you've got yourself a deal."

They talked over lobster ravioli and shrimp risotto, finding that they had much in common. They were both entertainers; Kurt was an actor as well as a costume designer and Blaine was a jingle singer and voice actor who had worked mostly in commercials. They'd grown up in the same state, so they had similar experiences of life as out gay teenagers. They held similar views on relationships, family, and what they had to achieve in life to consider themselves successful.

The long early summer days meant that it was still light out by the time they finished eating, so they decided to climb up to the Highline to take a walk. Kurt squirmed happily when Blaine bought them each an ice cream sandwiches at one of the little food carts (Kurt picked brown sugar cookies and bourbon ice cream. Was it possible to be in love with food?) and playfully held his sandwich out of reach when Blaine asked to try a bite of his flavor.

The continued along the converted railway tracks, enjoying the flowers and greenery that made the city below them seem very far away and stopping every once and a while to look out on the buildings, that looked to very different from that perspective.

"So, tell me about Rachel" Blaine said as they stopped to sit on a wooden bench tucked down an offshoot of the main path. "She seemed to know you really well."

"Ah, Rachel." Kurt crossed his legs and settled his folded hands around his knee as he leaned back. "She and Santana — she didn't talk to the DJs, but she was there — are my best friends. We've known each other since high school and were roommates during college. They have their own places now, but you'd never know it given how often they just show up at my apartment unannounced. Santana doesn't know the meaning of privacy or boundaries and Rachel thinks she's some kind of relationship expert since she's had the same boyfriend for a year. They're both a little insane."

"Well, I do believe they are my two new favorite people."

"Don't let them hear you say that," Kurt groaned. "They'll be insufferable."

"They called the radio station, right? Would you have called me on your own?"

"No," Kurt answered honestly.

"Then I can't wait to meet them, because I now consider them my own fairy godmothers." Blaine took Kurt's hand in his and turned it over, tracing the lines of his palm with a fingertip.

Kurt flushed happily at Blaine's assumption that he would get the opportunity to meet them. "So does that mean we're going to see each other again?"

"You're not getting rid of me that easily. I've never had an interesting response to the 'and how did you guys meet?' question before. Now that I do, I plan on telling it for years to come."

Kurt curled his fingers up to encircle Blaine's finger. "Can we at least change the details to say that I was going to the store for wine or something when we tell it? I can't be the "condom and lube" guy for the next sixty years."

"I think something could be arranged."


End file.
